Traskk growled a series of noises. No matter how often they spoke, Baldwin was no closer to understanding Basilisk.
“Griffin Fire, enable displayed translations.”
Traskk grumbled the words again. A moment later they formed in the air in front of the physician as a hologram.
She is sure she can free the armada. I have faith in her.
Baldwin nodded and said, “I know. I trust her too. But no one has ever been able to free the Excalibur Armada yet, so how can we keep hoping that Vere will find a way in the next couple days?”
Traskk’s long claws clacked against the table while he spoke.
How many other people do you know who could survive a heads-off game with the Green Knight?
Baldwin didn’t answer, simply gave a polite smile. The Green Knight had only had an opportunity to take Vere’s head because she had been rash and immature. If the Green Knight had really wanted to, no matter if she was Vere CasterLan or not, he would have chopped her head off and left it on the floor of the Green Chapel. It had been dumb luck, maybe dumb courage, rather than a capacity to overcome insurmountable obstacles that had saved her life.
Of course, if he told Traskk this, he would get a better view of the Basilisk’s fangs than he wanted, so he opened the nearest book and began reading again.
45
Morgan greeted Westmoreland on Dela Turkomann’s surface. He was twice her age, had served in the military three decades longer than she had, but had never once questioned Vere’s decision to promote her as commander of all CasterLan forces rather than him.
“This is where you’ve chosen?” he said, looking around at the barren moon and the portal floating above it.
“It is.”
She expected him to suggest a different location.
Instead, he merely shrugged and said, “Seems as good a place as any other.”
There was a tone of fatigue when he spoke. She knew him well enough to know he wasn’t actually tired. Rather, he was resigned to his fate. For a general to be that way around his troops was worse than a plague. Morale plummeted. Everyone would either try to find a way to avoid the fight, either by going AWOL or by finding reasons to be declared medically unfit for combat, or else they stayed and fought, but without any real belief that they could win. And without that belief, they were simply waiting for death.
Morgan was currently the only person next to Westmoreland, though. And she knew he wouldn’t dare say such a thing in that fashion to one of his officers. He only said it to her because he considered her his peer. She also knew that even if he didn’t like their odds, he would fight alongside his soldiers until it wasn’t possible to fight anymore.
“When is Vere returning?” he asked.
“I wish I knew.”
“Before battle, the people need to see their leader amongst them.”
It was the closest he would come to disapproving of what Vere was doing. He would never chastise a CasterLan, no matter what they did. He came from the tradition of generals who accepted their rulers’ faults, even relished in them, because in those faults was proof that they were fallible, imperfect people, just like anyone else.
Morgan shrugged and said, “She’s got it in her head that the Excalibur Armada will save us.”
Westmoreland shook his head, the corner of his mouth curling up as he did so. “I can’t even remember how many of my classes had lessons about rulers who sought those ships for themselves. And none of them were successful.”
“Kanaida the Hopeful,” she said, “lost his entire sector because he prayed to his gods to bring him the armada, and the only ships that came to visit him were those of his brothers, who despised him.”
“More like, Kanaida the Imbecile,” Westmoreland said. “And don’t forget Crake the Blind and Justinian the Depressed.”
“He was known as Justinian the Optimist before being conquered and then killing himself. They still teach about all of those people at the academy today,” she said. “Along with the fact that none of them held on to their kingdoms for very long once the Excalibur became their only hope.”
Westmoreland shook his head. “And yet that is where Vere is.”
A sudden weight pushed down on Morgan’s shoulders and eyelids. It was the same despair that caused Westmoreland to sound like he needed sleep. Having identified it, she pushed it away and regained her composure.
“My plan is to move the fleet into position on the far side of the moon.”
Westmoreland nodded. “There won’t be enough electromagnetic disturbances to disrupt their systems. They’ll know exactly where our ships are when they approach.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “They won’t be there for the purpose of a surprise. I have the portal where it is because I want any army ready and willing to join our cause to come through when the fighting starts.”
She hadn’t discussed this with anyone other than Pistol yet. The android couldn’t betray her, and therefore didn’t count in terms of espionage. Knowing how many battles had been lost by plans being learned ahead of time, Morgan generally kept them to herself as long as she could.
Westmoreland considered her plan, then said, “When the Athens Destroyers turn to fight us, they’ll have ships appearing behind them through the portal?” He took in a long breath, then added, “Not bad, but not enough to defeat two hundred Athens Destroyers, plus the one hundred other ships Mowbray has with him. Unless Scrope pulls off a miracle.”
They had both received news of Peto’s return to Edsall Dark and also heard that Scrope had somehow convinced Arc-Mi-Die to provide his ships to the battle. The warlord’s arsenal wasn’t much compared to the CasterLan fleet of Solar Carriers, but every bit would help.
“What else?” Westmoreland asked.
“I want part of the main fleet to break away from the battle and enter the atmosphere here. If we can get enough ships near the ground, maybe we can get them to engage us down here.”
He frowned. “In addition to having more ships, they also have more troops than we do.”
“True, but I’m hoping we can get them to commit enough Athens Destroyers away from the main battle that we have better numbers out in space.”
“Reducing their numbers advantage as much as possible,” he said with a nod. “Makes sense.”
“That’s really all I have, besides flight formations and where we utilize our Llyushin fighters.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
After reviewing the limited, desperate strategy for defeating the Vonnegan fleet, Morgan replied with the same resigned tone Westmoreland had used only minutes earlier. “As good as any other, I guess.”
46
Darkness surrounded Scrope.
“Hello?” he said.
Upon landing at the gangster Ballona’s space dock, he had told the pilots to remain with their ships. He would go alone.
“If I’m not back in two hours, tell Vere to expect ransom negotiations.”
The security checks had begun as soon as he reached the first door. A pair of armored Turgdorians prodded him with the broad side of their daggers, making sure he wasn’t trying to sneak in a weapon or some explosives.
At the next door, a full body scan detected whether he had any chemicals or residue anywhere on him that could act as a poison. A retinal scan detected whether he had android eye implants with explosives attached inside his skull. With each door, the hallway became a little darker, a little more ominous. He lost track of how long he had been in Ballona’s underground tunnels.
The next door opened. A rusted iron android in the shape of a human told him to pass through an array of detectors.
“Turn to your left,” the android commanded. After he did, the android told him to turn to his right.
“What is this one scanning for?” Scrope asked.
The android looked at him with a blank stare.
A moment later, a green light blinked on the android’s control panel.
“You may pass.”<
br />
“Thank you,” Scrope said.
Inside the next door, a grunting pair of enormous gray aliens approached him. Each wore a helmet to protect the solitary eyeball that took up half of its face. Scrope had never seen this species before and couldn’t tell where their mouths or noses were. When they growled at him, it sounded like their mouths were down near their bellies. The guards patted him down so roughly that he was covered in bruises by the time they finished.
Then, another set of scanners, this time to detect for parasites. When that was finished, Scrope walked further down the underground tunnels.
Another android appeared, this one the color of faded copper, with glowing black eyes and an array of sensors behind its head. The android extended a cup of liquid toward Scrope.
“Drink,” it said.
“What is it?”
“Cleans your insides of lethal bacteria.”
“I don’t have bacteria.”
“Drink,” the android said.
Scrope looked around. Although he couldn’t see one, he was sure a camera was allowing Ballona to see exactly what was happening. He was also sure a wall-mounted blaster would appear from a secret compartment and gun him down if he refused to drink what the android was offering.
“Will it kill me?”
The reply was immediate: “Drink.”
Scrope rolled his eyes and sniffed at it.
“It smells like dirty feet.”
“Drink.”
“I know, I know. Calm down.”
If he turned and tried to leave, he would be killed. If he tried to continue ahead without drinking the liquid, he would also be killed. So really, if the liquid he was being told to drink killed him, it wouldn’t change anything.
“Down the hatch,” he said, drinking it in one gulp.
“Proceed,” the android said.
He was at least four stories underground now. A pair of alien guards, heavy and round, their noses upturned, began patting him down.
“I’ve already been searched about ten times.”
One of the guards grunted something in a language Scrope didn’t understand. He could guess what the guard had said, though. Probably, he had been told to keep quiet or die.
Anyway, these guards probably didn’t know the first two guards performed the same duty. If the first guards were paid by a rival gangster to let an assassin pass through the security check, the subsequent guards would still prevent them from getting through to see and kill Ballona. If Scrope was an extremely paranoid gangster, he would also build redundancies into his security checks as a bribery countermeasure.
The grunting guards finished searching him, then pointed their glowing ion knives further down the tunnel.
After another hundred yards, he came to a metal door. All of the lights in the tunnel were off. The only illumination was from far behind him where the guards had been. It was just enough light that he could see a faint outline of the door before walking straight into the metal barrier.
Was this another scanner trying to detect something? Had a guard on the other side of this door fallen asleep? Or were they testing whether or not he would panic and try to get away?
“Hello?” he said into the darkness.
A click sounded. Then the metal door began to raise. As it did, light poured out of the next room, causing Scrope to cover his eyes with his hands. After being in darkness for so long, he wouldn’t be able to see anything in this bright room until his eyes adjusted.
“Your eyes will get used to the light in a moment,” a voice called out.
When he could finally see again, he noticed an alien woman in the shadows, a pair of android guards on either side of her. No one else was in the room. There were no harems or parties or anything else. No massive ogre guards or a monster to unleash. There was just this one alien and her two android bodyguards in an otherwise empty and cavernous room. At each wall, a light was pointed at Scrope, causing him to squint and hold a hand up in front of his eyes.
The woman was tall and thin, with no hair and leathery flesh. Scrope guessed she was half human and half something he couldn’t identify.
“All of these security precautions might seem like a hassle, but I can assure you they are all necessary,” the woman said with a slight alien accent. “You wouldn’t believe how many people have tried to assassinate me. Nor would you believe how many more would love the chance to try.”
“Well, I’m not one of them,” Scrope said, smiling and offering a slight bow. “It is very nice to meet you, Ballona.”
47
“Please,” said Vere. “I need your help.”
The Griffin Fire was somewhere behind her in the distance, although it was no longer visible. For all practical purposes, she was completely alone on an asteroid hurtling through space.
“I’m running out of time. If you’re out there, please help.”
If her microphone were on and Baldwin or Traskk could hear her on the Griffin Fire, they would think she was dying. She wasn’t, though. She was simply wandering the Excalibur—every surface, every crater, every part of every exposed ship—trying to find a way to free the legendary army from the rock that contained it.
At first, her pride had gotten the better of her and she had refused to ask for help from the imaginary matron Mortimous said was out here. But as the hours passed and as the Vonnegan fleet kept getting closer, she had begun calling for help every time she approached a new ship or a new crater. She still didn’t believe the Matron of the Mineral was a real person, figuring it was another trick Mortimous was playing on her. But it was the only thing she thought she might know about the asteroid that none of the other explorers had realized. Or maybe they had also heard about the Matron. Perhaps that was why Gordian the Stubborn and many others had been tricked into wasting their fortunes and the decades of their lives out on the Excalibur.
All she could do was keep walking in two-hour shifts, returning to the ship just long enough to replenish her oxygen supply, and then venture out again. The first thing she always did, upon exploring a new part of the Excalibur, was to call out in the desperate hope the matron was a real person.
This had been going on for two and a half days. Each time she returned to the Griffin Fire, Baldwin and Traskk looked at her with pleading eyes but neither of them said anything. She knew exactly what they were thinking: when was she going to give up and lead her forces into battle? Would the two fleets battle each other without her there?
In her anguish she had even begun getting up while Baldwin and Traskk were still asleep and going out for additional hikes. Traskk had woken up on one of these occasions, discovered that she had left the ship without telling anyone, and had nearly ripped her head off when she returned. After that he had made her promise to tell him when she was going out on the rock, even if she had to wake him to do so.
The only reason the reptile hadn’t told Baldwin about it, she suspected, was that he had seen something in her eyes as she boarded the Griffin Fire in the middle of the night. It was something he had only seen on her face once before, as they walked across Edsall Dark on their way to meet the Green Knight and the approaching Vonnegan fleet.
Desperation.
It was something he never wanted to see in her gray eyes ever again. He longed to protect her and would gladly fight any attacker on her behalf, but he couldn’t help her fight the mental battles or the panic forming in her head.
If Traskk had told Baldwin about her panicked secret missions, it would have been an admission of the sheer hopelessness of their situation. After all, if she was the leader of the CasterLan Kingdom and she was this desperate, the kingdom’s outlook could not be very promising.
Rather than trying to prevent her from going back out on the asteroid, Traskk had hugged her and asked if he could join her on the next walk. When he got the same answer she always gave, he had put her helmet on her head and wished her good luck. After that, she was sure he not only sat in the Griffin Fire’s cockpit during t
he day but also slept in there at night just on the chance she did run into trouble and radioed back for help.
She looked around at the vastness of the asteroid she was walking on. It was so large that wherever she looked, the rock appeared flat, the same as if she were on a planet. In the distance, instead of mountains, she saw the front quarter of one of the ships jutting out into space. In another direction, instead of a lake, she saw a wide swath of flat metal, the side of an Excalibur ship.
She still remembered the ghost story that Galen had told her when they were both children. Even as a seven-year-old, she was familiar with stories of the Excalibur, but she had never heard the story Galen recounted that day. There was an explorer, he said, who had landed on the Excalibur, thinking it was just like any other asteroid. But after walking for only one hour, he was in the middle of what appeared to be a frozen sea of stone and trapped ships. Every direction he turned, he saw nothing but more rock and more ships sticking out of that rock. Before long, he wasn’t sure which direction he had come from. Realizing that the electronic system on his space armor was faulty, he had no way to communicate with his ship or to determine where it was located. It was only an hour away, but it could have been an hour in any direction.
“People say the explorer’s spirit is still wandering the Excalibur, calling out for help as he looks for his ship,” Galen had said with a devilish grin as he reached the end of the story.
Vere had punched him on the shoulder as hard as she could and told him it was a dumb story. She would never admit that the tale had given her nightmares for the next week.
Again, she called out to anyone who might or might not be out there, “If you’re here, whoever you are, please help.”
She got into the habit of pausing for a few seconds after each plea for help. There was never any response, though, and each time she yelled for some mystical matron to help her she found herself cursing Mortimous under her breath.
The Excalibur (Space Lore Book 2) Page 16